


Weakness (J.D)

by hanashiotsuki



Category: Heathers (1988)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6415312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanashiotsuki/pseuds/hanashiotsuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One shot. Basically just a summary of J.D's life and how he changes from his mothers death to the events of Heathers. Feedback very much appreciated :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weakness (J.D)

**Author's Note:**

> (for the purpose of this i'm saying he was 18 in heathers)

A 12 year old boy curled up on the passenger seat of his father’s car. The roads were long and seemingly eternal, it was easy to slip in and out of consciousness. Jason Dean hoped that he would never awaken from these short naps that he frequented during that journey. Alas, there would always be an end. For him, there was little purpose in being awake, as ever since that Tuesday afternoon when the Dallas City Children’s Library disappeared in a cloud of ash and smoke along with his mother, he hadn’t spoken a word. It had been six months since then, but time didn’t matter to a child who spent his days locked in his room. When Bud Dean had announced that they would be moving state to Nevada, Jason had thought nothing of it. It was customary of him to uproot the family, sometimes only weeks would be spent in each town before they’d disappear, and forgotten by everyone who had lived there. Except maybe Bud’s young one night stands.   
That was the year Jason Dean would discover the numbing power a bottle of vodka could provide. 

A 14 year old boy sat on the edge of his windowsill at 3am. The world was quiet and still, the way he preferred to see it. In his perfect vision of the world, there were no alcoholic fathers, no jock assholes, and no social hierarchy that he would ordinarily slump at the bottom of. Jason had begun to speak again, though it was rare that he would. He believed his words were far too valuable to waste on the sort of people he generally found himself near. The moves were coming regularly, though there had never been any true justification for why Mr Dean took such pleasure in changing the scenery so often when there was no real need for doing so. Nevertheless, his son had never really had to adjust to any place as he’d be back on those never-ending roads soon enough.   
That was the year that Jason Dean would discover how packs cigarettes could relieve him of the world of angst he carried on his shoulders. 

A 16 year old boy stood against a tree at dusk. There was no more dreaming of a perfect world. He could see humanity for what it was. Disgusting and weak. They relished in the suffering of a suicidal teen who’d finally gone through with it. The adults are helpless against the force that was a high school. Schools are so much more than they claim to be, they’re whole societies in their own. Nobody could hear the buzzing thoughts in Jason’s head, begging for somebody who would listen. The only noise that he emitted was the intense and furious yelling during him and his father’s many fights. Bud Dean couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to create such an outcast. A weak child. Jason would soon prove him wrong.   
That was the year that Jason Dean would discover the joys a gun could bring. 

An 18 year old boy stood facing the school that would be his last. He looked upon one person who he thought could understand him. She was different, smart, just like he was. Or so he thought. She was just like the others, just like all those people who had driven him here. The ones who he’d killed. Of course she was. He was different, and she just wanted to be normal. He’d wanted them all to disappear, but there was only one way he could get rid of everyone. To make himself disappear.   
That was the year Jason Dean himself went up in smoke.


End file.
